Gossip Girl: The Second Generation
by RockinwitTheBeat
Summary: TV series. All our Upper East Siders are all grown up with kids of their own. Kids with no idea of their parents' past scandals. So what happens when Chuck Bass returns to New York with a secret that can shatter Blair's perfect life into pieces? C/B. D/S.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN GOSSIP GIRL OR ITS CHARACTERS. ALL ORGINIAL CHARACTERS, HOWEVER, BELONG TO ME!**

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February 2018

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Elderly and tender Mrs. Mitchell had worked for the Children's Aid Society for over 15 years. She was a new widow: her husband dying from lung cancer mere months ago. She had also been childless for more than twenty years, for both of her sons were killed during Vietnam. It was the old woman's loneliness that drove her to help New York City's children in need. There was no worth in going home anymore. Currently, Mrs. Mitchell was working in a state foster home in Brooklyn, helping to make sure that each child got their deserved meal and loving care. As she sliced apples onto colorful plastic plates, a little head of blonde hair raced toward her.

"_Mrs. Mitchell! Mrs. Mitchell! Someone's at the door!_"

"What's that, dearie?" She turned up her hearing aid. "I didn't quite catch-,"

"_**A man is at the door! I climbed the step ladder and looked through the peephole! He looks like someone from TV!"**_

"_What?"_

The boy drew in air to yell, "SOMEBODY'S AT THE DOOR!"

Mrs. Mitchell gave a tut of disapproval. "Kevin, dear, there's really no need to yell. I'll get it! I'll get it!"

Kevin Turnage did not cry or even look ashamed. He merely smiled the same knowledgeable smile that could make a person believe he knew everything about them. The old woman rubbed his head affectionately before hanging up her apron. Now, she could hear the loud, urgent knocks from downstairs. Frowning, she tutted again. That poor door wouldn't last if that ruffian kept beating on it. They still needed to get it replaced from after the break-in last month.

Mrs. Mitchell's brown cheeks puffed with anger. Thank God the buglers only took money, but still! Robbing from a children's home! _People these days!_

The knocks grew louder each passing second. Wailing cries soon came from the nursery upstairs. She sighed, "Kevin, dear…"

"_I'm on it!_" He rushed up the stairs like lightening, but then, hesitating, he came back down. "Mrs. Mitchell, can I get Jinx to help me?"

The black woman nodded while rubbing her temples. The babies' cries were giving her old ears a real beat7ing. Besides, she trusted little six year old Kevin, and it would be good for Jinx to spend time with him. Maybe she'd learn to open up a little.

The knocks came again, drumming like a bombardment.

"_I'm coming! Hold your horses now! I'm coming!"_

Mrs. Mitchell opened the door, intending to give the loud perpetrator a piece of her mind, but was frozen by fierce dark brown eyes. The man in front before her was not the typical sort one saw around the area. Though breathless and eager, he stood straight with an almost regal bearing that spoke highly of his upbringing. He was _extremely_ handsome in an aristocratic way with stylishly messy hair that matched his eyes, chiseled features, pale skin, and a dashing smirk. Not that she cared, but Mrs. Mitchell had the hunch that this man came from a different side of New York.

No wonder Kevin thought he came from a movie.

"Are you Cassandra Mitchell?" His voice was smooth yet husky.

She recovered from her shock. "Yes, I am. But…I think you may have the wrong address. The modeling agency is three blocks down if that's what you're looking for, dearie."

"Unfortunately, I am in the right place." He gave the streets around him a disparaging survey, "and I've had enough of models right now. May I come in?"

"Sure…of course."

Chuck Bass, normally, was never so polite to strangers, especially those he had just met. However, this woman and her God-forsaken orphanage had something that he desperately wanted. Stepping inside, he tried and failed not to wrinkle his nose. The place was moderately clean, but he wouldn't be surprised if a cockroach came scurrying over his top-of-the-line Nikes. And, it could never compare to his permanent suite at the Palace Hotel, or the new place he had purchased out west.

Yes, that's right. Twenty-seven year old Chuck Bass, Upper East Side born and raised, was leaving New York with no plans of looking back.

But not without his necessities.

Mrs. Mitchell appeared uncomfortable. "If I'd known you were coming, I might have tidied up a bit more. Would you like something to drink or-,"

"_No thanks._" It probably wasn't safe to eat anything here, he thought. "I'm afraid I can't stay long."

"Really now?"

Chuck pressed on urgently. "Do you have a girl by the name of Jinx? I have to see her _now_."

The old woman laughed with lightness, even though a hint of trepidation lay in her tone. "Now, sir, I don't even know your name much less your purpose-,"

A piece of paper was impatiently shoved into Mrs. Mitchell's face. Eyes widening, she grasped it and read in fascination.

_CERTIFICATE OF BIRTH_

_It is hereby certified and solemnly attested that_

_Jinx Charity Bass_

_was born at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston _

_at __7:36 a.m__., this __9__th__ day of __March__2013._

_Father: Charles __Bartholomew__ Bass. Mother: Blair Cornelia Waldorf. _

For a moment, she appeared unable to speak. Then, she glanced up at Chuck expectantly. "I take it you're the father?"

He nodded.

"Her mother is-,"

"_Listen. Jinx's mother_," His tone became as frigid as ice, "_doesn't want to be involved in her life. _She made that perfectly clear when she was born. But, _I _want my girl back."

Mrs. Mitchell's eyes narrowed. "The poor thing's been alone for five years…why come now?"

"Look, can we skip the interrogation, lady? I have less than an hour to catch my flight outta here! _Just tell me where Jinx is!_"

Though old, Mrs. Mitchell had never been the backing down type. "Mr. Bass, if that's really who you are, I can't just let you strut in here and walk out without any proof or identification-,"

"_Daddy!_"

Both froze. A small and adorable girl with short brown curls stared up at the man in awe. She was dressed plainly in a pink Strawberry Shortcake shirt and holey denim jeans, but the outfit didn't dim the brilliance of her cornflower blue eyes. Until now, Mrs. Mitchell had never paid attention to the girl's elegant features. Indeed, the curve of her smile, pale skin, and high cheekbones uncannily resembled those of her father, the same father whose throat had become clenched with emotion.

Chuck didn't dare take eyes off his daughter. He hadn't seen her in five years, and back then she was only a mewling newborn. A week after giving birth, Jinx's mother had sent her off into foster care with neither his consent nor knowledge. But Chuck, busy with graduating from Princeton and a long line of beautiful women, had not put up much protest. Now five years later, NYC and the sight of Jinx's mother with another man was too much for him. He immediately snatched up the opportunity to represent his father's billion-dollar empire in Los Angeles at first offer.

Chuck wasn't sure if he could ever put down his womanizing ways, but at least he could start over as a father.

"She recognizes you." The old woman whispered in astonishment as Jinx came running into her father's arms. "Must be the instincts I read about in _Parenting Magazine_…."

Chuck, however, wasn't paying her the least bit attention. "You've gotten so big!" He lifted Jinx so she could meet his eyes. "You know you and I are gonna have a lot of fun. We've got to make up for lost time. How does California sound to you?"

She giggled in approval, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Cool, huh? I'm…I'm pretty new to this dad thing. So, when I screw up, let's just pretend it never happened. _No _boys though. The last thing I want is you replaying my high school days. But, to make up for it, my credit card is _yours_ for the taking."

Mrs. Mitchell interrupted. "She'll get spoiled."

"My flight leaves in twenty minutes. We have to hurry." Chuck spoke as if he hadn't heard her. "My lawyer will come by soon to handle all the paperwork." He then gave his trademark smirk. "Since you do such a wonderful job around here..."

As she gazed in confusion, Chuck reached into his back pocket while still managing to balance Jinx. He took out a fancy ball-point pen and what Mrs. Mitchell realized to be his checkbook. Before she could protest, Chuck quickly wrote out a check. The large amount of zeroes on the tiny paper nearly made her old heart stop.

"One million dollars." He confirmed, adopting a low whisper. "My lawyer will also be happy to draw it up in writing that your establishment receives 300,000 each year until Jinx turns 21…if you do something for me."

"I-I…" Mrs. Mitchell appeared rather hesitant. Finally, she gave a sigh of defeat. "Well, if you insist."

"_Trust me I do._"

* * *

**_April 2018_.

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It was nearly two months later when Mrs. Mitchell received the second surprise of her life. She was standing outside of the foster home, watching the grumbling construction workers with an eagle eye. Repairs and renovations to the building were scheduled to be completed by mid-June. Because of the dangerous tools scattered about, Mrs. Mitchell had sent the older children outside to play to their heart's desire. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be done for the babies, so the old woman had been flying in and out from the nursery all day.

'_The poor things,' _thought Mrs. Mitchell as loud hammering pounded on the ceiling. _'They aren't used to all the racket…not that I am either.'_

"Well ma'm," The construction manager moved beside her, holding the blueprints open. His charming Southern drawl was strong. "Once we get everythang tidied up, looks like you're gonna have a mighty fine place. It feels nice helpin' out them poor kids. Ya'll still want me to take a look at that ol' stove?"

"Actually, I want it replaced with thisone I saw in the paper."

The managed let out an impressed whistle. "Electric Double Wall Oven? Those come pretty expensive nowa-,"

"_We can handle it._" The old woman spoke swiftly as if wanting to put a bad thought out of mind. She then felt a little hand tugging on her skirt. "Yes, Kevin dear?"

The boy's amber eyes were calm. Again giving his trademark grin, he pointed behind them at two immaculate ladies that Mrs. Mitchell somehow hadn't noticed. The first, a blonde, was almost impossibly beautiful with silvery hair, navy blue eyes, and a winning smile. She carried what Mrs. Mitchell recognized to be a very expensive Coach bag, but paired it alongside a plain white t-shirt and ordinary-looking jeans that fit her slim figure attractively. The overall effect, however, was entrancing in an odd way.

"Hi," She greeted Mrs. Mitchell cordially, offering her hand. "Are you Cassandra Mitchell?"

"Yes, I am." The older lady patted the small boy's head. "Kevin, why don't you go clean up for dinner while I talk with our guests?"

As Kevin made a face before running inside, the blonde giggled. "Cute kid. He reminds me of my niece Veronica. I'm Serena Humphrey by the way."

"_Don't you mean Serena van der Woodsen?_"

She closed her eyes in suppressed irritation. "I'm married now, Blair. Have been for almost five years…"

"_Whatever._"

The second woman's attitude reeked of a privileged upbringing. She wore a creamy white Chanel suit with a wide-brimmed hat and large sunglasses that better fit an Audrey Hepburn movie. Peering over the shades, she surveyed Mrs. Mitchell, then the streets around her with a snobbish expression soon appearing on her fox-like face. Although extremely attractive, she didn't possess the same blatant beauty as the blonde. Her brown hair was much shorter and curlier. Also, she seemed to be the same height as Mrs. Mitchell-around 5'6"-and had brilliant, piercing blue eyes.

The old woman seized up inwardly. _Cornflower blue eyes…_

"I'm sorry," Serena gave the brunette a hard nudge. "This is Blair Archibald. Blair, this is Mrs. Mitchell."

Blair rolled her eyes. "FYI, I can hear perfectly well." She gave the renovating building in front of them a critical once-over. "So this is where you dumped my baby at, _S_? Couldn't you at least stay in Manhattan?"

Mrs. Mitchell seized up again, but this time with a chill of dread. Before she could speak, however, Serena turned to reprimand her best friend.

"I didn't _dump_ her here, _B_, and it's not like you gave me a lot of options!"

"_But Brooklyn?_"

"Where else was there? It all happened right after college, and I'd just moved in with Dan!"

She frowned. "Well, it's not my fault Cabbage Patch refuses to upgrade!"

"_But, it is your fault Jinx doesn't even know what her mother looks like!_"

A deafening, uncomfortable silence passed between the two. Serena, realizing she had gone too far, blushed with shame during which Blair pretended that the crack in the sidewalk was the most interesting thing around. Mrs. Mitchell, on the other hand, barely took notice. Her face began to take on a grey tinge as buried memories jumped into the forefront of her mind.

"But he said…she wouldn't…the mother…" The old woman was mumbling wildly, trying to make sense of it all. "Blair…_Blair Waldorf_!"

The brunette looked up in surprise. "How do you know my maiden name?"

Her world suddenly came crashing down. He had practically promised the mother would never return! Never be interested! Never care…it was what made taking all that money so much easier. Mrs. Mitchell's frantic dark eyes settled on Serena. Now she recognized her. She had been the one to drop the squealing baby Jinx into her arms, and leave with only giving the child's name.

Then, Mrs. Mitchell focused her attention onto Blair. Even though she possessed many of her father's features, little Jinx was almost a carbon copy of her mother. What was she supposed to say to the woman?

"Um, yes, it sounded familiar." Mrs. Mitchell uncomfortably decided to tell half the truth. "I believe I read your name on Jinx's birth certificate…before she was adopted."

Both ladies froze in shock, sharing an uneasy glance with each other. Then Blair, with tears sparkling in her eyes, removed her sunglasses and asked, "How is that possible? I-I thought this was foster care!"

"Yes, it is. But, I'm afraid the state has tons of children in the system, and a lot of foster homes are not even close to what you see here. Whenever we have an opportunity to put a child in a good home, we can't really say no."

The wounded expression on the brunette's face was almost too much to bear. Mrs. Mitchell was forced to look away. _This deal_, she reminded herself for strength,_was for the good of the children_

Serena, in pity, embraced her friend. "Who adopted her?"

"It was years ago, dear. I don't remember their names, but I do know that they loved her like she was their own. The couple that took her in couldn't have children, you see. They wanted to move out to Cali…_Connecticut_ when the paperwork was done…_I'm-I'm sorry._"

With that, Mrs. Mitchell scurried inside before the guilt overcame her. From the calls she received, the old woman knew Mr. Bass deeply loved his daughter. She also knew inside that she had done the right thing for Jinx and the children. But right now, all she needed was a good cry in bed. It was what she had done after Vietnam, after her husband's funeral, and what she would do now.

Yes, after a good cry, things would be better in the morning.

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They were now in a sleek Rolls-Royce that was heading for the Archibald residence. As they passed over Brooklyn Bridge, the blonde let out a depressed sigh. Dan was currently in Germany to write an article on the European Union. She would have gone with him for mental support, but Blair had called in a panic the night they were to fly out. Serena's lips curled into a smile. Dan was so excited to be living his dream of being a writer, and not just any writer, but a reporter for _The New York Times_! And then he was also working on a sure-to-be-bestseller novel while she scored big roles on screen…life was just perfect right now. 

The blonde sighed again. If only it were that way for Blair.

"_B…_" Serena patted her friend's arm. "You heard the lady. _Jinx is happy. She's loved. _Please stop crying."

"_What am I supposed to do?!_" Blair sobbed wildly. "Jump for joy? Nate and I would've loved her more than some old farts in Connecticut! If I knew she'd be gone forever, I would have never given her up!"

"You were scared, remember? You couldn't raise a baby _and_ finish Yale at the same time."

She gave a pitiful hiccup. "_I know…_"

"And sorry to burst your bubble," The blonde laughed lightly, "but Nate isn't that cool. He would never raise another man's baby."

"He wants another kid." Blair began to wring her hands. "_S,_ you know what the doctor said. Giving birth to Jinx and Leighton so close together wasn't good for me. I can't-,"

"do this to Nate. It's not fair to him or you, _B._" The normally playful Serena was grave. "I know you were gonna lie and say you had no connection to Jinx. But, Nate would have found out. Just like he found out about you and Chuck in high school. Don't do that to yourself."

Blair, realizing she looked like a maudlin fool, began to get herself together. She smirked weakly at Serena's comforting words while wondering where the party-hearty It-Girl she knew in high school had gone. Everyone was so different now, even her.

"Cabbage Patch must be having an effect on you." The brunette grimaced. "Did you have to sleep with him though?"

"Cabbage Patch is my husband!" Serena swatted at Blair. "It's not like you let me tell the details anyway. I, on the other hand, could probably write a book on your sex life."

Though her face felt wet and painfully tight, she managed to smile in gratitude. "Thanks _S…_for everything."

"You know you love me, _B._"

They laid their heads on each other's shoulder, feeling unwatched for the first time in years. The once omnipotent Gossip Girl had stopped uploading her dreaded blog of rumor and scandal as time went along. The last entry she wrote was about three months ago when Chuck Bass loaded into his private jet and took off into the unknown, never to be heard from again. Perhaps Gossip Girl had grown up too…they were never able to find out who the bitch was and maybe that was a good thing.

Serena's cell phone rang loudly from her pocket. Before she could move, Blair snatched it first. Looking at the number glaring on the cover, the brunette opened the phone haughtily.

"_How's my favorite goddaughter doing in Germany? Have you met any cute boys yet?"_

"Blair! Don't encourage her!" Laughing, Serena grabbed her phone back. "_Hey Chloe…I'm glad you're having a good time, baby. Maybe you can convince your cheapskate dad to build a summer house over there…_" She giggled as Dan's voice yelled in the background. "_Tell him I resent that!_"

Blair rolled her eyes as Serena listened attentively to her three year-old daughter's innocent escapades in a foreign country. She removed her own cell phone from a limited-edition Prada bag that had a wait list at Sak's from here to Morocco. Leighton or Nate would be calling her pretty soon. Both of them liked to keep tabs on where she was at all times.

Staring out the window, Blair had to admit that Brooklyn was beautiful in its own hip way. Not that she'd ever say it aloud. Manhattan and its Upper East Side would always be her home. It was just a shame she couldn't share it with _all_ of her loved ones. Maybe it was just best to leave the past in the past, and be grateful they were living out the fairytale lives they were born to have.

Blair knew she had found her happy ending.

"_Hey Max!_" Serena, now off the phone, yelled for the driver's attention. "I love this song! Turn it up!"

The song soon blared from the limo's radio. Blair and Serena, best friends forever, began to dance in what they knew was now the old school way.

_I ain't got no money. _

_I ain't got no car to take you on a__date._

_I can't even buy __you__ flowers. _

_But together we be the perfect soul mates..._

_Oh baby, it's alright now, you ain't gotta flaunt for me  
If we go touch, you can still touch my love, it's free  
We can work without the perks just you and me  
Thug it out till we get it right_

Blair got her happy ending, alright, but this was reality. And in reality, happy endings had a way of coming around to bite you where you least expect it.

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**Hey Everyone! This is my first Gossip Girl fanfic and I'm so excited about it! The idea fell into my head while I was watching the 1****st**** season finale! ****Don't forget to review & tell me what you think!**** Hopefully, I'll have the next chapter up soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN GOSSIP GIRL OR ITS CHARACTERS. ALL ORIGINAL CHARACTERS, HOWEVER, BELONG TO ME. I ALSO DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SONGS IN THIS CHAPTER OR STORY!**

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September 2029.

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"Lookin' good, hot stuff! Don't tell your dad I said that though!" 

Sixteen year-old Jinx Bass laughed off the compliment as the fifty-five year-old security guard opened up the community gate. Robert may be a bit of a pervert, but he was definitely nicer than the neighbors. As she waved goodbye, Jinx tried to concentrate on all the complicated twists and turns of pavement that led to her house. The last thing she wanted was to crash and put _another_ one of her dad's cars in the shop, and this 2027 Ferrari was definitely a favorite. But eventually, the guitar strums of her favorite old school song distracted her as they always did.

_They're gonna clean up your looks with all the lies in the book_

_To make citizen out of you._

_Because they sleep with a gun, and keep an eye on you son_

_So they can watch all the things you do…_

Laughing again, Jinx began to sing along. "_Because the drugs never work…they're gonna give you a smirk…'cause they got methods of keeping you clean…_" She took a hand off the steering wheel to turn up the volume. The Neighborhood Association would probably drop a complaint in the mail again, but she could really care less. The Bass name would always be on their hit list.

Her brilliant blue eyes rolled. When would those bastards learn that this was Bel Air, not Surbania? Los Angeles and _not_ Law & Order? She'd probably never live to see the day.

_They say those teenagers scare the living shit outta me!_

_They can care less as long as someone will bleed._

_So darken your clothes-_

_I'll strike a violent pose._

_Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me! _

Jinx winked mischievously at old Mr. Marks, head of the Neighborhood Association a.k.a. Neighborhood Assholes, as he glowered in disapproval. Oh yes, she and her dad would definitely be getting a letter in the mail soon. Yet for now, Jinx just wanted to get home, chill out, and enjoy the first day of school privilege of having no homework. If she was lucky, her dad might even take her out to his friend's awesome five-star restaurant downtown.

"_¡Mirada¡Mirada! Señorita, atiende!_"

**CRASH!**

Just as Jinx was about to reply to the frantic gardeners, the front of her car hit the paved curb. She froze in shock. Then, the brunette winced as a plump Hispanic woman rushed outside. It was Damita, Jinx's authority maternal figure, and boy did she not look happy.

"_Estúpida! Estúpida!_" She opened the driver-side door. "Jinx! _El carro cuarto! _The fourth car this summer! What am I going to do with you, _bobo?!_"

"_Perdón_ Damita…" Jinx gazed at her nanny sheepishly. "_Te amo_-,"

"You can tell your papa how much you love him when he sees this. Inside right now!"

She let out a groan of displeasure before grabbing her school things on the passenger seat. This sucked! Now she could kiss that five-star restaurant goodbye!

"And your papa is in a meeting!" Damita called. "So don't go in making noise!"

Hiding a smirk, Jinx quickly acknowledged her nanny's warning before beginning the walk to her house. While the driveway wasn't long, it was still on somewhat of a hill, which was killer when wearing five-inch Manolos.

* * *

The Bass residence was quite different in design from other homes in Bel Air. Its Country English-Style Tudor façade was imposing only to those that didn't live inside. However, like other homes in the Platinum Triangle, it was huge with eight bedrooms, a private theater and gym, pool, a north-south tennis court, and 12,000 square feet of living space. Jinx's father paid thousands of dollars each year to maintain the look of their humble abode, hiring gardeners as well as architects at his disposal. Walking into the grand gallery with its oak banisters, high ceiling, and portraits of famous 20th-century tycoons, Jinx kicked off her shoes before running upstairs into the sumptuous family room to watch TV.

Finding nothing good on VH1, she clicked forward on the remote to her other favorite channel: _Turner Classic Movies_. Sure enough, High School Musical was on. That's all they ever played these days.

"Damn, this movie is so old!" Jinx began to sing along to the cheesy yet lovable tunes. Zac Efron may be in his mid-forties, but he was still hotter than ever!

_Coach said to fake right and break left  
Watch out for the pick and keep an eye on defense  
Gotta run the give and go and take the ball to the hole  
But don't be afraid to shoot the outside "J" _

Just keep ya head in the game  
Just keep ya head in the game 

_And, don't be afraid to shoot the outside "J"  
Just keep ya head in the game!_

The brunette did a few karate chops in the air before diving toward the liquor cabinet in the corner. It was never locked and hadn't been since she was a kid. Jinx poured herself a glass of expensive Campari just as shouting came from the hall.

"CHUCK BASS, YOU ARE THE MOST INSENSITIVE AND DICK-MINDED BASTARD I'VE EVER MET IN MY LIFE!"

There was a slight pause. Then more yelling came from the hysteric woman. Jinx rolled her eyes. Obviously, her dad had replied with some smart-ass remark.

"FINE! I DIDN'T WANT TO BE IN YOUR NEW MOVIE ANYWAY!"

_Ah!_ So she was an actress...Jinx gulped down the rest of the Campari before closing the liquor cabinet. The official rules in the Bass household were that she wasn't allowed to drink in front of her dad, or in the house, or come home pissed drunk. But, anywhere else was fair game, and she was always one for loopholes.

"THERE WAS NO WAY IN HELL I WAS GOING TO MOVE TO NEW YORK WITH YOU ALSO! SEE IF YOU EVER SEE ME OR MY HOT ASS AGAIN, JERK!"

The front door slammed with a bang. The actress was a blonde, Jinx could tell. If it had been a brunette, there would've been a slap. If it was a black woman, there would've been some serious ass-kicking. And, an Asian or Hispanic woman would've happily cussed her dad out in another language besides English.

Jinx knew these things from experience. Her dad was kind of a big player in L.A.'s dating scene. Seeing different, beautiful women come in at night and leave the house the next morning in a tizzy was normal for her.

"Hey Jinxy-baby, how was school?"

Thirty-eight year-old Chuck Bass smirked at his daughter in greeting. Though he stood shirtless and disheveled in the gallery, he was as cool and confident as ever. Jinx could understand why all those women were attracted to him.

"_Boring!_"

Like any good daddy's girl, she ran to embrace him. He made sure to ruffle her long brown hair affectionately before asking, "Well how was soccer practice?"

"_Dad…_" Jinx said it in a "this-is-the-hundredth-time-I've-told-you-this" voice. "It's the first day of school. They only had a meeting for new freshman, remember?"

Unlike fellow Bel Air parents, Chuck chose to send his daughter to public instead of private school. The decision was always a controversial one between him and Damita, but he insisted on it. From what Jinx could get, her dad didn't have fond memories of private school on the East Coast.

"Cut me some slack, young lady. I am a busy man."

Jinx's lips curled into a smirk that was a mirror image of Chuck's. "Busy ladies' man is more like it."

"_That too._" He led his daughter downstairs into the private theater. "Come on. I've got this great new project to show you."

During his years in L.A., Chuck had securely established himself as, not only the heir to innovative billionaire Bart Bass, but one of Hollywood's leading directors. His interest in film stemmed from dabbling in the acting world and discovering that he was actually good at it. However, he soon grew tired with the same boring yet  
high-paying roles over and over again until he decided to make a name for himself in the director's seat. It didn't take long for Upper West Coast Productions to make a splash in the entertainment world or to become a favorite among the American populace. Celebrities were always calling the house to get Chuck's company to film their new music video or next big break.

As Jinx sat in front of her dad's large mahogany desk, he tossed over the synopsis. "The writers dropped by with the idea this morning. Read it."

_Title: __The Gilded Life_

_Summary: Based in 1899 Manhattan. All twenty-one year-old Charlotte Schoonmaker wants to do is throw exclusive parties that will make the gossip mill run wild, find the perfect husband, and live her life in Upper East Side splendor. But soon, her father's mysterious kidnapping leaves everyone whispering and her family's reputation (and bank account) in ruin. With the sudden abandonment of her glamorous companions, Charlotte is forced to rely on the aid of an outspoken stable boy (Rufus) with a questionable past and a shy servant girl (Jenna) to help find her father._

"They find the father dead in a brothel. In the end, it turns out the male servants of the house banded together to get rid of him after he raped the maids, particularly Jenna."

Jinx raised an eyebrow. "So she was in on it?"

"I can't tell you everything. But, you can be sure Miss Jenna leads them down a few wrong turns." Chuck leaned back in his executive chair. "What do you think?"

"This looks awesome, dad!" She reread it over twice, feeling excitement bubble in her chest. "So…I guess this means you'll be in NYC for a few months, huh?"

He began to shuffle through papers. Jinx didn't hear or notice his voice become tight. "A few months. Maybe longer…"

"Cool. Well, I'll miss you daddy! Don't forget to send presents. I'll try to leave the house in one piece, but I can't make any promises."

"_Jinx!_"

She scoffed lightly. "I was just _kidding_-,"

"No, no. It's not about that." Chuck stretched out awkwardly. He put on an old shirt left behind from another previous sexual encounter while motioning for Jinx to sit down again. The blue-eyed girl groaned.

"Oh God! Here we go again! Look dad, as much as I enjoy our little heart-to-heart sessions, I really don't feel up to it right now."

He stared at his daughter evenly. "Jinxy-baby, we need to talk about something important."

"Okay, I confess. I'm _not_ pregnant. I'm _not_ on drugs. I'm _not_ analcoholic. And, sorry to disappoint you, but there are times I even think I'm not psychotic." She gave her best million-dollar smile. "Can I go now?"

"Fine, go ahead." Chuck waved toward the door. "Don't forget though that someone has to pay to fix that Ferrari you oh-so-love to wreck."

She winced. "You heard?"

"You bet. _Now sit._"

To be honest, heart-to-heart discussions in the Bass family were blissfully rare. When Jinx was in elementary school, he had been gone most of the time, sending fabulous presents along with virtual hugs and kisses from on set. For the past few years though, Chuck began accepting shorter projects like music videos and television shows in order to spend more time at home. Jinx knew this next project was going to be big, so she totally understood her father having to spend a year on the East Coast.

Besides if she got lonely, throwing a house party was always an option!

"_Jinx_," Chuck decided to take this slow. "Not that it means anything much, but how do you feel about New York?"

She looked at her father pointedly. "Please dad. I'm a West Coast girl. I live for soccer, sun, and Burberry bikinis. Freezing isn't my style."

"The city is on an island, Jinxy, which means we have beaches. Grandpa Bart even has a nice house out in the Hamptons."

"_We?_"

"_They,_" corrected Chuck while avoiding his daughter's eyes, "also have excellent school systems. Much more connected to the Ivy League than anywhere here."

Jinx had had her heart set on attending Yale for as long as she remembered. He, on the other hand, managed to squeeze into Princeton at the last moment mostly thanks to his rendezvous with that hot admissions counselor and Bart's far-reaching connections. He once took Jinx to a lacrosse game certain that Princeton would leave Yale in the dust. But his old alma mater let him down, and Chuck still cursed the day that Jinx fell in love with that drooling bulldog mascot.

"My guidance counselor says as long as I keep my grades high getting into Yale will be a breeze for me."

"That old nark wouldn't know anything about the Ivies if it bit her in the ass."

Jinx's smile wavered. "So you don't think I can get in?"

"I didn't say that. You just need someone who knows how to cement the deal. I hear Mrs. Queller at Constance Billard is an expert at that."

"Constance what?"

Chuck slid on his rolling chair toward a nearby file cabinet. After rummaging for a bit, he pulled out a manila envelope. "Never mind. What else do you know about New York?"

Jinx fidgeted uncomfortably. All of her knowledge about the Big Apple stemmed from late night episodes of Law & Order. "The houses aren't like over here. Matter a fact," Her button nose wrinkled in distaste, "they don't even live in houses. They live in _apartments._ Really small roach-infested apartments."

He swiveled around with a laugh. "You don't get nearly as much credit for your imagination. Not everyplace in the big city looks like the Bronx. Ever heard of the Upper East Side?"

Dread began to build in the pit of her stomach. Chuck Bass was more a bing-bang-boom kind of man. He didn't ask questions. When it came to business, he spoke what was necessary, gave orders, and ran the show. Interrogating like this was not his style, which meant something strange was going on. Then, as if to confirm Jinx's suspicions, a glossy brochure was shoved into her hand.

It was an advertisement for The Pierre Hotel, or more specifically for its penthouse. Seeing her dad watch for a reaction, the brunette made sure to keep her facial expression indifferent despite what she was feeling on the inside. Jinx was well aware that her father was a wealthy man, for he was able to fund her love of high-fashion apparel. But, she doubted even Grandpa Bart could afford to maintain (much less want to buy) a 70 million-dollar penthouse. _'Seriously,' _Jinx contemplated in astonishment, _'that apartment is bigger than our whole house!' _

Well, that was one New York fallacy demystified.

Jinx, however, still wanted to play the game. "Wow, dad! This place looks amazing!"

Chuck gave an inaudible sigh of relief. "I'm glad you think so, Jinxy."

"Are you going to film there?"

His face became deadpanned, causing the tension in the room to escalate a notch. Jinx again began to fidget noticeably: a bad habit of hers. She watched intently as Chuck rubbed his brow in exasperation before exhaling a long, slow sigh. He knew he was about to turn his West Coast daughter's world upside-down. All hell was about to break loose in the Bass household. And as much as he didn't want to, there was only one other way Chuck could tell the news without going crazy.

So, left with no other options, he broke it down slow enough for a three year-old to comprehend.

"We-are-_moving_-to-New-York"

There was stunned silence. And then…

"_What?_ I-I don't…what the…"

Chuck let his eyes roll in exasperation. Trust his daughter not to be on the same level as a three year-old.

"You heard me, babe. I don't think repeating myself would be good for you."

Indeed, Jinx's face was becoming a rather ashen grey. Her lips began to open and close wordlessly like a fish out of water. After a minute or two, she then tilted her head slightly to the right, as if trying to gain a new perspective of the situation. With that apparently not working, Jinx's eyes widened and closed and opened again in a rapid blinking sequence.

Chuck watched this all in fascination, wondering just how many reactions a teenage girl could go through. But finally, just when Jinx's mouth opened to speak intelligible words, her father decided to end it all in one sweep.

"I'm afraid Grandpa Bart isn't doing too well," A small trace of bitterness entered Chuck's tone, "and he wants all his family and friends around to hold his hand before he goes in for surgery. _Believe me._ I wouldn't go if I had a choice."

"_Then don't._"

He gave a listless laugh. "It's not as simple as that, Jinxy."

"_I'm not moving._"

"Jinx, there's more out there than California-,"

"IT'S NOT ABOUT CALIFORNIA, DAD!" The brunette stood up suddenly, knocking over her chair in the process. "This year is supposed to be my best! Coach promised I would make co-captain! I finally got the guts to run for class president! I actually have friends and teammates who care about more about me than my wallet! Unlike _you,_ I have a life here!_ What's the point of leaving to film some stupid movie anyway?!_"

Chuck tried hard to control his temper as he replied, "**This isn't just about the movie!**"

"_**Fuck that!**__We all know you and Grandpa Bart hate each other! That's probably why you left the Demon Coast in the first place!_**"**

"**JINX CHARITY BASS!"**

"**I'M NOT GOING, OKAY! I'M NOT GOING, SO JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"**

Before he knew it, his daughter was sprinting out and running upstairs into her room. Chuck collapsed back into the revolving chair while suddenly feeling too old for his thirty-eight years. Why did Jinx have to inherit his stubborn streak? Why couldn't she have remained cute and cuddly forever? Now she was loud, mean, and, worst of all, a teenager. Her resistance to this move was not going to make his life any easier.

"Do not worry, _se__ñor."_ Damita appeared in the doorway like a saint. "I will talk to my _niñita._ You go and get ready for your trip."

Chuck seemed rather relieved. "That's actually a pretty good idea. I'm leaving soon."

"When?"

"Tonight, I'm afraid. Make sure Jinx packs while I'm gone. She leaves on Friday."

She gasped in surprise. "_A la noche!_ Why so fast, _se__ñor_?"

"The old man wants me in ASAP." Chuck began to message his temples in exhaustion. "You know…I'd love to just stay in a hotel for a few days, but something tells me he's gonna drag this out for as long as possible. _Damn!_"

Ever the voice of reason, Damita clucked in disapproval. "You need to take care of your papa, _se__ñor_. If you don't now, you will regret it later on."

"I know…I know…thank God you're coming with us! Did Roderick schedule that flight for me?"

Roderick was his personal assistant, and unlike Jinx he had practically wet himself when Chuck gave him the opportunity to go to New York. In fact, all of _Upper West Coast Productions_ would have to make this move with him. Chuck had already fired those who were unable to make the transcontinental journey, but now he needed to get himself ready. He was saving the private jet for Jinx when she left. Chuck, however, wanted a quiet return to the Big Apple, so he would be flying public for the first time in his life.

First-Class of course.

"_Sí_." Damita then hesitated. "_Se__ñor…_I worry about my _niñita_ in New York…Jinx is only a girl…and what about her mother?"

As usual when the subject was approached, her employer's tone became ice cold.

"_Let me handle that._" He violently slammed a file of papers on the desk."_Rest assured Blair Waldorf will only be a part of Jinx's life over my dead body. _

_

* * *

_

**Hey People! **

**Ever heard of Gossip Girl? Probably not with our busy schedules. I mean, who wants to think about anything after a summer of partying in the best nightclubs, shopping in ultra-exclusive boutiques, and flying from vacation house to vacation house in our parents' private jet? Those of you who live the luxe life know how fatiguing it can be. But for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about (or live under a rock), here's a quick rundown:**

_**We are Upper East Siders.**_

**Ever spot a fabulous group of designer bikini-clad teenagers tanning in the Hamptons? A group of lads and lasses with classic good looks that something inside told you they got **_**whatever**_** they want**_** whenever**_** they want?**

_**That's us.**_

**Ever wonder about the life of the chosen ones? You know you have. Can you imagine having unlimited access to money…privacy…the best hangouts in the city…and all the privileges that come with the luxe life? **

_**That belongs to us.**_

**Ever read about or watch those people on television who seem unreal because they're too glamorous, too smart, too wealthy, too beautiful, or too perfect for words?**

_**Those are our parents…**_**and us. **

**Now that those on the outside know we live in huge apartments and townhouses, have maids that are paid exclusively to wait on us, and eat gourmet food on a regular basis while still knowing how to party on booze all night long, it's time to move on to the bigger question:**

_**Who's Gossip Girl?**_

**Ask your folks. However to be honest, it won't help much because they never found out either. See I know who Gossip Girl is because she's my mom! But don't get excited. I'm not giving out names. After all, the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree. I knew from the moment I saw my mom's old blogs and archives that it was my duty to continue the Gossip Girl legacy. And hey, I can't help it she agreed with me!**

_**So welcome to your one and only source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan's elite! **_

**Gossip is to me as honey is to bees. I'll be watching everyone, and don't think you can hide. This Gossip Girl is new and improved with all the tricks of the trade. See you at **_**Baby V's**_** party on Saturday! We all know something exciting is guaranteed to happen! **

_**xoxo,**_

_**Gossip Girl.

* * *

**_

**AN: HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER!**** Thanks **_**so**_** much for reviewing last time! Getting reviews from my readers is like drinking a whole case of Red Bull! I'll update soon! **


	3. Chapter 3

--

**Good Morning Upper East Siders!**

**New Girl Arrives on the Block**

**Actually more like at LaGuardia Airport, walking out of a Boeing 767 with a middle-aged entourage at her beck and call. For many of you out there, this means nothing. But all of my fellow UES residents know that this girl is the **_**real**_** deal. And, unfortunately for us ladies, she **_**is **_**a looker. Her hair is long, brown, and so shiny even our Elizabeth Arden hairdressers would have to reach for shades. Speaking of which, her eyes are covered by a fabulous pair of Chanel sunglasses that have a wait list higher than Trump Tower (I know because I'm on it!) and she has on an outfit to **_**die**_** for. **_**Believe me**_**. No one can rock Juicy Couture like this girl! If she's as confident as she looks, then we'll all be in trouble. Definitely watch your sweethearts around this one, ladies! But, it's safe to agree that neither **_**M nor**__**L**_** will be happy with our new arrival. **

_**E-mail bets on how long she lasts!**_

**Sightings**

_**Queen M **_**and**_** L**_** riding together in a cab for school. Can those two ever be separated? **_**K **_**playing soccer in Central Park with fellow St. Jude's classmates****as**_** O **_**enjoys a cigarette on the sidelines with his own crew**_**. C**_** sipping cappuccinos with her cousin **_**Baby V**_** on the steps of the Met. The **_**new girl**_** arguing in Spanish with one of her maids as the pilot unloads their bags. **

**Life is definitely about to get interesting on the Upper East Side and I'll be there watching all the drama unfold…**

_**xoxo,**_

_**Gossip Girl.**_

"Here we are, Miss Bass! _The Pierre Penthouse!_ Would you like me to give you a tour?"

"_No thanks_." She gave an awkward laugh as a line of bellhops brought in their belongings. "Uh, I'm sure I can make it alone."

"Very well, Miss Bass. Your father says to choose from any of the five master bedrooms now because your interior designer will be here at noon. He will also be taking you out for dinner tonight. Speaking of which, may I get you anything? _A drink? Snacks?_"

Jinx really wanted to tell the annoying concierge to _get_ a life, but instead she smiled cordially before asking for coffee. After watching him leave, the brunette exhaled in relief. Jinx had been in New York for less than an hour, and she was already dealing with her grandfather's toadying employees. Her father's staff had been bad enough on the plane ride over here. They all flocked around Jinx like an obsessive entourage when really all she wanted was a moment's peace to mourn leaving California. She groaned in annoyance at the memory.

If not for Damita's company, she would've happily gone psycho on their asses!

"Isn't this place beautiful, _niñita?_" The nanny gently eased off her surrogate daughter's Chanel coat. "Imagine all the fun parties you can have with your new friends!"

"_Yo no quiero tener amigos nuevos_ and you mean _if_ I throw a party."

Yes indeed, Jinx was going to make this transition as difficult as possible. She didn't care that she now lived in the best penthouse in Manhattan. She didn't care that the triplex occupied most of the 42nd floor with sixteen rooms or had its own private elevator landing with gilded doors. She cared neither for the gigantic Palladian windows nor the crystal chandeliers nor the breathtaking views of Central Park from the terraces. Jinx also didn't care about the ballroom-sized living room, the new maids, or the two really cool wet bars currently being stocked with alcoholic beverages.

Okay, maybe she did care about the wet bar.

Snatching a bottle of Charles Heidsieck champagne from a maid's hands, Jinx uttered a brief apology before expertly twisting off the cork with an opener. She smiled sheepishly at Damita who frowned in disapproval as she poured herself a glass. The purpose for this drink was less celebratory and more Let-me-get-drunk-as-hell-so-I-can-forget-this-shit-is-happening. The title appealed greatly to the drama queen that was inside Jinx. Since all the angels in heaven were against her, there was no reason why she couldn't loosen up!

"_Damita…_" whined Jinx as the alcohol began to take effect. "Why couldn't dad just screw himself, leave us alone, and come back to Cali for a visit! This is so fucking unfair! I don't know what to do here unless they have some _"_What to Do When You're Screwed in New York"handbook!_" _

Muttering comfortingly in both Spanish and English, the nanny hugged Jinx against her plump warmth. "This is New York, _mi niñita_! Smile! Be happy! The world belongs to you! _¡Tú eres hermosa y inteligente y fuerte!_ And," Damita reached into the Louis Vuitton duffle bag the Basses had bought for her last Christmas, "you have your papa's credit card!"

A smile, the first she had in a week, lit across Jinx's fox-like face. It was the American Express Centurion Card, but she recognized it by its color. The Black Card had always been a personal favorite of hers though Chuck rarely gave it, or its unlimited bank account access, to his daughter. He only did so on special occasions, and Jinx supposed him trying to get back into her good graces could indeed count as one. However, as she looked outside at the towering Manhattan skyscrapers, her glee diminished rapidly.

"Is there really a point to go shopping? I don't know where anything is! I _don't even know where the fucking mall is!_ Oh God…bad thought…_what if there isn't a mall?!_"

Jinx's hyperventilating stopped when Damita awarded her with a sound slap upside the head. Wincing, the brunette cradled the back of her skull as she replied with a quiet thank you. Anyone that knew Jinx also knew that all it took was a good slap to bring her back to reality. And reality, as much as she didn't like it, was what Jinx needed right now.

"Calm down, _niñita_!" scolded Damita while shaking a finger at her. "You are a _Bass_, and, as a Bass, it is your right to take this city over by storm! Remember your motto?"

"Which one?"

Brown eyes rolled. "Your favorite."

"Yeah_, Jinx Bass kicks ass!_ That's my motto!"

"Exactly!"

The brunette, now suddenly invigorated, grabbed her father's credit card with a goofy yet confident grin. "I've read all the magazines! I've watched all the movies! I can totally blend in here! _No,_" Jinx reached for her Juicy Couture bag. "_I can totally stand out!_"

Just as Damita embraced her young charge again, the annoying man from concierge appeared almost out of nowhere with Jinx's coffee. Ignoring his sniveling, she grabbed for the mug, gulping it all down in four mouthfuls. Hopefully, the strong liquid would help sober her up. Jinx did her best shopping when she wasn't tipsy.

"So what's your name?" She asked him while returning the empty mug.

He looked rather proud at being addressed. "Arnold Peters, Miss Bass."

"Well Peters, call me a car out front and make sure the driver knows all the hot shopping spots around here."

His brow creased in confusion. "What about the interior designer?"

"We can reschedule."

"I don't think your father will like this, Miss Bass!"

"What he doesn't know won't kill him. Just do what I ask before I have you fired for being an ass-kisser."

"But-but…_very well._" He sighed in defeat. Obviously, his job was very important to him. "Would you prefer a Rolls-Royce or a Mercedes-Benz?"

Jinx gave a nonchalant shrug. "Just put me in something where I can see the city. Might as well find out what all the fuss is about."

* * *

"Charles, long time no see. Please sit down."

If Chuck had been expecting a warm greeting from his father, he would have been sorely mistaken. But as it was, he had _not_ been expecting a warm greeting from his father, so his heart wasn't actually too broken. Unless you were his wife, one could not expect to get too much emotion out of the Bart. Years of ruthlessly climbing up the corporate ladder and making a name for himself had hardened the man.

"Hello father." His son was just as indifferent in greeting. "I take it you're doing well?"

Bartholomew Bass nodded. "Coffee or scotch?"

"Scotch, please."

"Charles, it's barely noon." The sixty-nine year old man frowned in disapproval while dialing his secretary. "_Jeanette, send up two coffees please…__**decaf.**_"

Once again he had failed another one of his father's stupid tests. Chuck somehow managed to hide his scowl. It didn't take Jeanette long to bring in the requested coffee. As the young secretary leaned over to pour Chuck his cup, he was given the gratifying sight of her full bosom straining from her low-cut blouse. Smirking, he asked for her to fill a second cup of water while claiming dehydration from "the heat." Jeanette, catching his drift, did so and tossed him a quick wink as she left the office.

Chuck's eyes then focused on her swaying hips.

"You've still got good taste, father."

Though Bart let out a derisive scoff, there was a glint of actual pride in his eye. Everyone knew where Chuck inherited his talent with the ladies from. After the divorce and before he got to know Lily van der Woodsen, Bart Bass had been just as much a playboy as his son. Now, he was married, old, and grumpy.

It only gave more inspiration to Chuck…inspiration to never get hitched.

He suddenly felt his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. Flipping it open, a text message from Damita popped up on the small screen. It read: _Jinx is much better. Gave her credit card. Gone shopping. Coming home 4 lunch?_

Chuck exhaled in relief. Unfortunately, he had a meeting to attend soon about filming permits and other such crap, so he wouldn't be able to devour any of Damita's delicious quesadillas. On the other hand, he was glad that Jinx was no longer mad at him. She was always in a good mood after shopping. Indeed, his daughter was the only person in the world he truly cared about. If it had been anyone else, Chuck would have had no problem firing them or telling whosoever it was to fuck off.

"One of your admirers, Charles?"

"No," He was now typing back a reply, "it's just Damita, Jinx's nanny. Now father, let's talk about this whole surgery ordeal-,"

Bart waved a wrinkled hand dismissively. "Oh, it's just some fussing doctor's worries. We can talk about that later."

"**Father**, you can't just drag me across the country and expect-,"

"_We can talk about it later, Charles._" His eyes narrowed into a stern glare. "Now tell me about my illegitimate granddaughter."

Chuck immediately felt defensive and didn't even bother to hide his scowl. "_You don't have to say it like that!_"

"As harsh as it may sound, there's no point in denying the truth."

"It's not like her mother's a stripper or some prostitute!" He snorted in disdain. "Unless times really have changed…"

Mr. Bass gave his son another stern eye. "Charles, I can _assure_ you that Blair Waldorf, or shall I say, _Blair Archibald_, is quite a fixture in this society. The woman is chair of every charity committee, invited to every function, and is quite looked up to. Least I can say about you."

He had always "loved" how his father managed to turn a compliment into an insult. Chuck leaned back in the leather chair to sip his coffee in thought. So Blair and Nate _had_ gotten married…obviously they would have punched out a few kids by now…be living their fairytale lives in a townhouse on Park Avenue…no doubt his arrival would ruin everything! He gave a humorless chuckle while stirring in more vanilla cream. Though Chuck did not want to be in New York, he was actually looking forward to seeing everyone's shocked faces. But Jinx…

Jinx was not ready for them.

"Do they have any kids?"

"A daughter. She goes to Constance Billard of course."

Amazing how little Miss Waldorf could find room for one daughter in her life, but not another.

"_Figures!_" Chuck then hesitated before continuing. "Jinx wants to go to Yale…I was sending her to Constance, but Nightingale-Bamford or Chapin will do fine."

"_Don't be absurd, Charles!_" Bart growled in disapproval. "Daughters of the best families go to Constance! It has been that way for generations!"

"Like you would know!" The film director replied heatedly. "We are the new money, father! That won't change no matter who you marry!"

Indeed, though the Basses were wealthier than most Upper East Side families, there were still places in high-society Manhattan that were reluctant to admit them: all because their wealth did not trace back to the 1800's. No one cared that they had paid the expensive admission price into society. It was one of the reasons why Bart Bass was so keen to marry Lily van der Woodsen, an heiress of a very old New York family.

Here in the Big Apple, your last name actually mattered.

"This is exactly why Jinx cannot not to be boxed off! It's better that she be introduced now rather than later, and the van der Woodsen dinner tonight will be a perfect opportunity."

Chuck immediately stood in protest. "_**No, damn it!**_"

"_Yes, Charles!_" Bart also got onto his feet. "I don't see any problem whosoever. You have nothing against the van der Woodsens, I hope!"

"Did you ever think that Serena van der Woodsen-a certain someone's best friend-will be hosting?!"

"This is not Serena's party; it's her brother Erik's and his wife. They are celebrating his new deal with Sony Records, and I'm extending the invitation to you."

"_Well it's being rejected!_" Chuck glanced at his Rolex watch, cursing that he was now late for his meeting. "_Damn!_ We'll talk later, father. I need to go-,"

But unfortunately for his son, Bart Bass was now too used to getting what he wanted.

"**Charles,"** He swore vehemently with a promise in his tone, "**if you do not come to the van der Woodsens tonight, I will cut you off so fast that your head will spin!"**

The film industry may have made Chuck a rich man in his own right, but it was always Bart's billionaire status that made him into who he was. His money was Chuck's money and vice-versa. Though the director was thirty-eight, he still depended on his trust fund to pay for his most outrageous expenditures. Chuck groaned in frustration. Would he ever be able to escape his father's influence?

"**Fine**_**,**_" agreed Chuck reluctantly, "_**but don't think that I'm speaking to any of them.**_"

Jesus, he felt like an angst-ridden teenager again!

Bart, now pacified, sat back down. "Of course, if that is what you want…are you sure Mrs. Archibald is not aware you have Jinx?"

"Not a clue. Not that it matters anyway. I'm not letting her near my daughter."

"That's rather harsh-,"

Not wanting to go there, Chuck walked to the door without bothering to excuse himself. "We will see you tonight, father." He paused in thought for a moment, and then turned around with a trademark smirk on his lips. "Don't expect for Jinx to behave herself."

"Why not?"

"She's my daughter, isn't she?" Chuck echoed before leaving the office.

Watching the door close, Bart Bass shook his head in disbelief. Tonight was definitely going to be interesting.

* * *

"Smythson invitations…gold utensils…silk tablecloth…full-place setting…a color theme that actually coordinates…" Blair Archibald nodded in approval. "I must say I'm proud, Little J. _You have arrived._"

"High school is over, Blair. Couldn't you just leave it at J or Jen?"

"Nah, I don't think so."

Baby blue eyes rolled. "_I'm thirty-five_."

"But," Blair gave a cat-that-ate-the-canary-grin, "you'll always be _Little J_ to me."

It was hard, however, to imagine Jennifer van der Woodsen as the shy albeit wishful girl she used to be during Constance Billard days. Now sassy and beautiful, the Brooklyn-born lady had what it took to live on the tremulous Upper East Side. Blair admired her handiwork fondly. In the end, the brunette had forgiven Jenny for temporarily usurping her position as Queen B. If the roles were reversed, Blair would have done the same thing. So, after some humiliating payback, she accepted the blonde freshman back under her wing while simultaneously using Erik van der Woodsen as a distraction from any future rebellion. Needless to say, it didn't take much push to get the lovebirds together.

Now, more than twenty years later, Blair could truly treat Jenny as more than an underling.

"Are you sure everything is fine?" The blonde tugged the edge of her pink with black overlay Carmen Marc Valvo halter dress. "Lily normally helps me with these things, but since she was busy-,"

"_Honey!_" shouted Eric van der Woodsen from across the apartment. "_Where's my tie?_"

Jenny smirked in his direction. "Right where I left it on the dresser!"

"…_I don't see it!_"

"The charcoal-grey one!"

"..._the what?"_

She turned to Blair with a wolfish grin. "Well, it seems Eric wants his before-party quickie. Do you mind covering for me?"

The brunette tossed a wink. "See you in thirty."

Yes Little J had definitely grown up…they had all grown up as a matter of fact.

Sipping on a flute of expensive champagne, Blair surveyed her surroundings once more. The van der Woodsen family lived in one of the best apartments on Park Avenue, just a few blocks down from Blair's own triplex residence. Each of the eleven rooms was tastefully decorated, spacious, and perfect for their purpose. Covering the entire 7th floor, the place had just been renovated a few months ago to the highest standard possible. Old architectural details were preserved. New technology abounded. The gallery was also widened to better display Jenny's renowned artwork, and the once useless library was transformed into a recording studio for Eric who owned a popular record company.

"_Oh my gosh, this looks so great!_"

Serena Humphrey swept past her husband and daughter in a rush for Blair. Though aged by sixteen years, the blonde actress remained a remarkably beautiful woman who lived on life. Blair admired her best friend's figure in the one-shoulder satin black dress she wore. The two women still prided themselves on looking their best no matter what age they were. Just last Saturday Blair and Serena had gone to the Pierre Hotel's new gym to work out with the hot, young personal fitness trainers.

"You look amazing!" squealed Serena excitedly. She would always be a happy bubble of energy.

Blair, however, would never be so, even when wearing Nicole Miller silk babydoll dress.

"Thanks. It took me hours to pick out this dress with Leighton. Can you believe Nate didn't even _notice_ when I put it on?" She lowered her voice. "_It's like I don't exist to him anymore-,_"

"Don't be silly, _B._" Serena led her friend to the drink table. "I'm sure Nate is just in one of his mood swings. Tough time at work?"

Blue eyes rolled. "When is it _not_ for him? Apparently he's so swamped with work that he's going to be late coming over here."

"There you go-,"

"_Well if it isn't my favorite ice queen…_"

Blair gave Dan Humphrey a playful glare as he hugged his wife's waist from behind. Tonight, so as to not embarrass his baby sister, Dan had dressed to the nines in an Armani Collezioni dress shirt with clean black pants. Obviously Serena had picked it out for him.

"Where's Jen?"

"Upstairs with her husband."

Dan blanched at the unpleasant thought of what his sister could be up to.

"And Nate?" asked Dan casually before wincing as his wife stabbed a four-inch heel onto his toe. Blair pretended not to notice. Instead, she merely sipped some more champagne.

"Nate will be here soon. So where's my favorite goddaughter?"

"Chloe went to Veronica's room to hang out with the girls. _Oh wait!_" The New York Times reporter looked out toward the crowd that was beginning to form in the gallery. "I think I see my buddy Greg from work. You've got to meet him, Serena! He's an _amazing _writer."

The blonde grinned, apparently very pleased her husband wasn't embarrassed to introduce her to his coworkers. "I'd love to, hon." Then, Serena adopted a worried expression as she turned to Blair.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm fine, _S._ Go mingle before Brooklyn Boy gets a hernia."

"_Oh, ha-ha! Very funny…_" With a roll of his eyes, Dan led his wife towards a bald man in the corner who wore purple from head-to-toe.

So here she was, Blair surmised, left all by her lonesome: willfully abandoned by her husband and best friend. Looking about the gallery, the brunette frowned as she realized there were no cute, single and straight men to at least flirt with. What kind of people had Little J invited anyway? There was an odd mixture of winners and losers-who's who and nobodies-at this soiree. This was a sight Blair had rarely seen, was unused to, and didn't like.

Hopefully next time, Jenny would come to her when it came time to decide the guest list.

"_Blair! I almost didn't recognize you! You look amazing!"_ Kati and Isabel, thirty-eight and still the best of friends, bounced over to their leader. After all these years, they could still be seen with Blair, shopping at Barney's or lording over a charity committee.

"Thank you," replied the brunette regally like a Persian cat on a pedestal. "So have you two heard about the Pierre Penthouse?" asked Kati in excitement. Isabel, unlike Blair who chose to appear disinterested, leaned forward in her Salvatore Ferragamo pumps.

"_No, what_?"

"_It's being rented out!_" whispered Kati exuberantly. "Whoever is moving in must be a big deal, because I hear they're throwing out all that great furniture inside and buying up the auction houses!"

"_No way!"_

She nodded. "Yes way. Can you imagine? They just got here!"

"Hey Blair, doesn't Mr. Bass own the Pierre now?" The brunette jumped in surprise at her name. "Oh! Oh yes, he does…"

For a moment she had almost believed… Blair instantly grabbed a hold of herself. _He_ had been out of her life since that long, painful night in the maternity ward. She had not seen or heard from _him_ in sixteen years. _Good riddance! _She didn't need him. And what reason did _he_ have to come back? There was nothing left for him in New York! Blair had made sure of it by moving on.

_Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!_

The van der Woodsens' butler, Edgar, sharply rang a delicate silver bell to announce dinner. Making a graceful line toward the dining room, New York City's finest and most influential legion hummed in approval at the array of delicious foods on the long table. Blair smiled and tossed a wink to Serena, who rolled her blue eyes, as Eric and Jenny entered while straightening their ruffled clothes. With the host couple now ready, everyone sat down to dig in.

"Find any good roles yet, _S_?" Blair asked across the table before delicately buttering a roll.

The blonde watched as a maid filled her champagne glass. "It's pretty sad the roles they limit older women to play nowadays. But, my agent told me yesterday about this great period film Upper West Coast productions is about to cast."

"Dan's letting you move to the West Coast?"

"Of course not." Serena nudged her husband playfully. "_He and Chloe never let me go anywhere fun!_ Good thing the film is set in New York, so they came here to film it. Are you still up for Tiffany's drive-by after this?"

"Yes! I saw the most wonderful plate set there."

"Is another Waldorf extravaganza on the calendar?"

Blair smiled brightly as Bart Bass entered the room. "Of course."

_"Jenny! Eric! _Sorry to keep you waiting! I am glad you two look well. How is the music industry these days, Eric?" Jenny shared a knowing glance with her husband as he groaned under his breath. Eric hadn't really wanted his step-father here tonight. His mother was in Paris doing-God-knows-what, and so no one was here to keep Bart's rigid formality from infecting everyone else. This was supposed to be a happy occasion, not a funeral!

"It's great, Bart. I just wish…HOLY FUCK!"

A hush fell over the well-heeled crowd, but not because of the host's foul language. There in the doorway stood a man they had not seen in sixteen years. For a split second, many of them had a flashback of the indomitable teenager who was the epitome of arrogance. Isabel saw the boy who threw the wildest parties on the Upper East Side. Kati remembered him as her freshman, sophomore, and junior crush. Poor Jenny held her husband's hand a little tighter at the sight of the man who had almost raped her. Dan glowered as he recalled the former classmate who threw his father's money in everyone's face. Serena gasped in disbelief as she remembered the boy who once stole her best friend's heart. Uneasy, she looked over to Blair, who looked amazingly calm… Almost as if she had known Chuck Bass was coming home.

"Ah!" Bart waved his son over imperiously. "You all remember Charles…long time, no see, eh?"

"_Not long enough…"_ muttered Chuck under his breath rudely.

"And of course," continued Mr. Bass, "you all have to meet my lovely-,"

"_Wow, this place is amazing! Did you see the Rembrandt in the hall, dad?_"

The dining room burst into whispers as a very lovely brunette girl in a stunning Zac Posen cocktail dress made her entrance. Slowly analyzing her cornflower blue eyes, everyone's attention turned to Blair who currently seemed frozen in a block of time. Yes, she had always known _he_ would return. The call of the city was too hard for people like Chuck Bass to resist. New York was as much a part of him as it was of Blair. But for him to return so casually…like he hadn't done any wrong…with the one person she wondered about, fretted over, and even prayed for almost everyday…

"Dad, are you okay? Dad?" Jinx blinked in confusion as her father's face became unusually stolid. "Daddy…"

"_Oh!_" Chuck startled at his daughter's voice. "I'm fine, hon. Why don't you give Mrs. van der Woodsen her flowers?"

Jenny could only smile awkwardly when the mysterious newcomer congratulated her achievements with a bouquet of fresh calla lilies. Almost dropping them, the blonde shared an uneasy glance with her husband, both staring at the girl who was the near mirror image of Blair Waldorf. They had always been rumors…especially when Blair had disappeared that time to Connecticut for months…

Gasping in realization, Jenny turned her gaze to Serena who looked away.

"Well everyone," Bart Bass's booming voice reclaimed attention. "I'm rather famished! Do you mind if we begin dinner, Jennifer dear?"

"No…not at all…."

"_Wonderful!_"

Several minutes later as Chuck dined on caviar and champagne during the appetizer setting, a passing old maid pressed a folded note into his hand. Wincing in dread, the movie director opened it when Jinx fumbled suddenly with her fork. It read:

_Meet me on the patio after dessert is served. I only want five minutes, Chuck Bass.  
__You owe me five minutes._ _--Blair_

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

"Why are you trying to get rid of me, dad? Did I do something wrong?"

As he signaled the driver to pull the limo up, Chuck Bass settled his daughter with a stern look. It was best at the moment if he made Jinx think he was upset. This way, he could get her to leave faster and then apologize for his hastiness in the morning. Right now, all Chuck wanted to do was get his daughter away from _those_ people, away from the stuffy billionaires and snippy socialites, away from the media moguls and real estate tycoons, and especially away from _her._ If he could do that right, then his mission to be a good father was accomplished.

"Get in the car, Jinx.Stay home and get ready for your interview tomorrow."

When his daughter hesitated, Chuck helped her decision-making by prodding her inside the limo. Before she could protest, the obedient driver closed the door and smiled gratefully when his boss slipped a hundred dollar bill into his pocket.

"Take her straight back to the hotel. If something happens to my daughter, it's your ass on the line, got it?"

Understanding the warning, the driver's smile grew slightly nervous. "O-Of course, Mr. Bass!"

Chuck stood solemnly for a moment, watching the slim black limo drive off to join the rest of NYC traffic. He didn't even bother waving good-bye. Jinx would be too busy pouting to return it anyway. Chuck knew his daughter had been having the time of her life. Being new to the hierarchy of New York royalty, she had everyone crowded around her like dogs to fresh meat. And Jinx, who loved being the center of attention, made sure to regale them with tales of her adventures in a faraway place named California.

Chuck exhaled slowly, massaging his temples as he reentered the elegant chaos of the van der Woodsen home. Now that his daughter was out of harm's way, he could really get down to business.

* * *

"…You know that Jinx girl is really something. Chuck must have his hands full with that one!"

Nathaniel Archibald laughed awkwardly at his own joke in an attempt to cheer up his wife, who had become oddly reclusive during dinner. Blair just wasn't being _Blair_ tonight. She wasn't lording over "Little J" the hostess. She wasn't planning shopping dates and café hours. She wouldn't even discuss her brilliant, new philanthropic endeavors. All Nate had seen his wife do that night was pick at her food like a nervous child.

Then again, he had also been also two hours late to a very important dinner. Blair couldn't have been happy about that.

"Listen Blair," Nate tried to sound as apologetic as possible. "I really tried my best to get off early. But the prime minister from Pakistan kept calling, and I had to reschedule my flight to Israel, and my secretary needed to pick up her kids…it's just gotten really hectic at the UN lately."

"_Hmm…_"

To be honest, Blair wasn't paying the slightest bit attention to her husband. She had known from the start that, despite his promises otherwise, he would be late to the  
van der Woodsen dinner. The life of a United Nations diplomat was not accommodating to any schedule. Blair remembered when Nate began seriously considering the position. It had been right after their honeymoon to Dubai where he first noticed the big gap between the fortunate and the fortuneless. Coming back to New York and later being robbed gunpoint in Central Park had done nothing to stem the matter either. So now, the former stoner was one of the United Nations' best diplomats, able to represent the organization around the world, but predominantly in the Middle East.

"Blair, honey, you know my work is important to-,"

"Mom, dad?" Leighton Audrey Archibald approached her parents in Ferragamo heels. "I'm going with the girls to meet Mimi at the Knicks game. She's got courtside seats."

Tall, lithe, and amazingly pretty, Leighton was the female version of Nate: blonde hair and green eyes. With her mother's sense of style and grace, she sported a grey silk Yoana Baraschi cocktail dress with its ivory rosettes like a movie star. Like Blair, Leighton was the embodiment of perfectionists everywhere. Her movements and retorts were always perfectly timed, perfectly coordinated. She kept her hair either in a high ponytail or straight down. Her clothes even had to be ironed twice by the maids each morning, so as to seem custom-made for her size 2 figure. As her Aunt Serena always said: "The looks are her father's, but the brains are all Blair."

"What girls are you going with?" asked Blair as Nate unfolded several crisp fifties from his wallet.

Her emerald green eyes rolled. "What other girls is there, mom? Just Chloe and Baby V!"

"Veronica's parents are letting her go out after last time?"

"That's what she told me." Leighton shrugged carelessly, giving her father a sweet smile as he handed her a wad of green bills. "We won't be long anyway. It's Knicks versus Rockets. We all know who's going to win."

Nate pecked a quick kiss on the cheek. "Spoken like a true New Yorker. Go have fun, kid!"

"Thanks daddy. Night mom!"

Blair barely had time to wave her daughter off before she disappeared into the well-heeled crowd. Frowning, the mother wondered if Jinx was anything like Leighton: always eager to escape from parental authority. Blair honestly didn't know where she got it from. She herself had always basked in her mother's few praises and her father's fawning attention.

"Have fun at the game, sweetie."

"_Okay._"

Chloe Karenina Humphrey quickly kissed her parents, Serena and Dan, on the cheek before shyly waving goodbye to her godparents. "_Bye Aunt B. Bye Uncle Nate._"

The product of a marvelous gene pool, young Chloe had inherited her mother's Aphrodite-like good looks: golden hair, navy blue eyes, and a slim figure. But as much as Chloe loved pampering and pedicures, Blair knew her to be very down-to-earth for an Upper East Sider. She had inherited her dad's Brookylnite morals, and preferred reading Shakespeare to plotting for Queen Bee position. Not that Chloe would ever want to be Queen Bee at Constance, Blair considered. Being Cabbage Patch's daughter meant she was genetically required to be socially awkward. Though beautiful and confident in appearance, Chloe could hardly get her mouth open around people, which drove Serena totally crazy.

"Nice kid. Too quiet to be Serena's though."

"Kitchen._ Now._"

Chuck smirked at Blair's back as she led him towards the kitchens. Inside, the Hungarian maids bellowed a boisterous folk song together while washing plates and helping themselves to leftovers. Apparently their English was limited, for Blair didn't glower them out of the room. Instead, she slammed Chuck against the nearest wall with her manicured nails at his throat.

"_**How dare you!**_"

"How dare I what?"

"_**Don't play innocent with me! **_**Jinx is supposed to be living in a two-bedroom home in Connecticut. She's supposed to be having a normal, happy life! Why is she with you Chuck? **_**Why?!**_"

Determined to keep cool, Chuck kept his face expressionless. "If you ask me, there's nothing happy about living in a two-bedroom dump."

"_So you kidnapped her!_" accused Blair angrily.

"Look!" He shoved her hands off his neck. "I didn't kidnap anyone. Jinx needed to be rescued from that foster dump. I was just the parent who cared enough to do it!"

"So Jinx was never in Connecticut?" The brunette realized aloud.

It certainly answered why. Why that woman who ran the foster home couldn't look Blair in the eye. Why the private detective Blair had hired could find no trace of Jinx on the East Coast. Damn Chuck Bass and his million-dollar trust fund! _He_ had ruined everything!

"You bribed that orphanage lady?"

Though meant to be a question, she stated it as fact. He, on the other hand, was enjoying the revelation. As he flashed his trademark smirk, Blair wanted nothing more than to have her hands around his throat again.

"I believe you're mistaken, Mrs. Archibald. The Children's Aid Society Foster Home is a respectable philanthropy project under Bass Corporations for-,"

"_You unimaginable bastard!_" Blair swore with hatred in her eyes. "Do you know how long I spent looking for her? The _one _mistake I don't ignore and try to fix-,"

"_**See that's your problem, Blair!**_ **Anything that doesn't fall right on schedule is obviously a mistake! Jinx may have been unexpected, **_**but she's not a mistake!**_"

Now Chuck had gotten angry. But Blair, although surprised at seeing this protective Papa Bear side of him, could care less.

"Don't you dare paint me as the villain! I love her! _**I tried to find her**_**!**"

"Why? So you could have her shipped off someplace where she couldn't ruin your perfectlife with Nate?"

Blair pushed him back against the wall. "Don't act like-,"

"Don't test my patience." Chuck sneered. "The only reason I'm in New York is because dad wants to play patient. Yes, Jinx doesn't have a mom. All she knows and _should_ know is that her mother is dead. But what she lacks in a mother, she has in a father. So here's my advice to you: **stay away from Jinx**. Because if you don't, there **will** be consequences."

"_You can't do that!_" A hint of desperation entered her voice. "_She's my daughter too!_"

"**Watch me.**"

The Hungarian maids had deserted them. Perfect English wasn't needed to understand when two people were extremely pissed off at each other. Blair could only hope they hadn't blabbed to Jenny or anyone else about this conversation. As much as she loved Jinx, the secrets surrounding her birth would be earth-shattering if they got out. The love scandal would rock every Page Six of every gossip tabloid in New York City. Blair knew it and so did Chuck. But they couldn't think of themselves anymore. They were no longer selfish teenagers. They were now parents who had to protect their children's future.

"_Fine!_" growled Blair reluctantly. "I won't tell Jinx anything important, but that doesn't mean I'll let you ban me from seeing her!"

He stared at her coldly. "Actually, that's exactly what it-,"

"_BLAIR! BLAIR! HAVE YOU SEEN VERONICA?!_"

Jenny van der Woodsen frantically burst into the kitchens with tears pouring down her pretty face. Chuck had to admit that she had grown up nicely. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought Jenny was just like any other Upper East Side housewife: elegant, well-dressed, and easy on the eyes. In fact, she'd look even easier- and less Frankenstein's Bride- if her mascara wasn't running.

"_I've looked everywhere!_" cried Jenny. "S-She said she was going out for a breather, but that was half an hour ago! And the doorman says he hasn't seen her! What if she had an attack? What if someone-,"

"Not to worry, Little J." Blair, being older and wiser, immediately took control of the situation. Despite her calm demeanor, Chuck noticed an angry glint in her eye as she took Jenny's proffered cell phone. "I'll handle everything. Chuck, we _will_ talk later."

He snorted rudely, ignoring Jenny's curious glance, before turning his back on the pair. There was really nothing to discuss. Chuck was king of the Upper East Side again. He had laid down the law and expected it to be obeyed. Queen Bee or not, Blair would have no part in his Jinx's future. Chuck would do whatever it took to keep it that way too.

Even if it meant playing dirty.

* * *

**Good Morning Upper East Siders!**

**Baby V's Party Troubles**

**Every self-respecting Upper East Side daughter prides herself on being a total Daddy's Girl. But sometimes ladies, the cuddling and pampering becomes too ingrained in our fathers' minds. I call this ODS, or Overprotective Daddy Syndrome. We all know about it. We're all witnesses to it. But only our **_**Baby V**_** is a victim of it. All of you who were important enough to be invited to her mom's party know what I'm talking about. For you unfortunate few who weren't, worry no more! Gossip Girl is here to give all the inside scoop.**

**At first, the party was going the usual route. (Rockin' for the adults and boring as hell for their offspring.) By the time caviar was served, the **_**Fab Four**_** were still yet to be seen. A good thing for our new girl **_**J**_**. Ladies, I have to warn you: not only is **_**J**_** mega-hot, but she's also funny and charming as hell. Within ten minutes of arriving, **_**J**_** already had all of our parents under her spell. I've never seen anything like it! And what will **_**Queen M**_** think? Too bad she wasn't invited to the party for us to find out! (**_**Baby V's **_**mom must still be ticked about the "40/40 incident" last summer.)**

**Any juicy confrontation that might have happened was postponed when **_**J's**_** mega-hot dad whisked her away in a limo as soon as **_**L **_**and **_**C**_** decided to show their faces. Both of them ditched their folks and headed out for the night with **_**Baby V**_** nowhere to be seen. But we know better. Turns out **_**Baby V**_** played the ol' sneak-out-before-your-friends-and-meet-up-later gambit. Just before the party broke up, **_**Baby V's**_** folks were sounding the alarm and rounding up search parties. Good thing **_**L's **_**mom knew where to look before I got my Louboutin heels ruined! So where was **_**Baby V**_**, you ask? **

**Let's just say our favorite freshmen won't be that big of a Knicks fan anymore…**

**Sightings**

_**Baby V**_** crying in her room after a huge fight with her parents. Not a bad place to be considering her room is like a suite at the Plaza. **_**C**_** is sneaking outside of her parents' Williamsburg palace to smoke a cigarette with a guilty expression. Don't feel bad **_**C**_**; we all do it! **_**L**_** and **_**M**_** finally leaving Madison Square Garden after cheering on the Knicks. I'm all for New York spirit, but do those two **_**have**_** to do everything together? **_**J**_** moping in the Pierre Penthouse while watching the maids unpack her bohemian-couture wardrobe. Why leave the party so early, **_**J**_**? Are you hiding something from us already?**

**Surviving School**

**The weekend is almost over, which means-**_**yawn**_**- back to school. But before we reluctantly don our seersucker skirts and coats, let's think about all the juicy scandals sure to lie ahead. **_**J **_**has to go to school somewhere in Manhattan. (My bet is on Constance Billard. Cross your fingers!) But how long can a sunny California girl survive the chilly Upper East Side? You know I'll be watching to find out! **

**xoxo,**

**Gossip Girl**

* * *

_AN: SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT AND SHORTER CHAPTER! BUT, I WANTED TO GET THIS PART OUT BEFORE I GOT WRITER'S BLOCK TRYING TO MAKE IT LONGER. DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Sunday, August 24 2029**

* * *

"_Forward player Jinx Bass is passed the ball! She moves past mid-field…dodges defense player Clavo…races for the goal line and kicks…GOALKEEPER ORTIZ MISSES! GAME IS CALLED! JINX BASS HAS SCORED THE WINNING GOAL! __**U.S.A WINS THE WOMEN'S WORLD CUP!**__"_

_Though sweating like a pig, Jinx cried with joy as she ran a victory lap around the enormous field with her teammates. They threw her up onto their shoulders, screaming as the burly referee handed them a humongous silver trophy. Jinx claimed it gratefully and hoisted it into the air. The million-man crowd roared with deafening cheers that shook the arena's foundation. She had done it! She, the newcomer, had proved it to them all! Jinx Bass kicked ass as well as she did a soccer ball and now they all knew it!_

"_Congratulations Jinxy-baby!"_

_Chuck Bass appeared out of nowhere with two bikini-clad Brazilian babes under his arms. Eyes rolling, she hugged him anyway. Men like her father never changed. So why let that ruin her moment?_

"_My __niñita! ¡Felicitaciones! I'm so proud!" _

"_¡__Te amo Danita!_"

_Like her father, her beloved nanny had appeared out of the blue with a big smile. Jinx warmly returned the maternal embrace, smiling into busybody photographers' flashing cameras. Could this day get any better?_

"_Jinx Bass?" A stocky, bespectacled man in a three-piece suit approached her. "I'm Kenneth Emmons, an admissions officer at Yale University. I'm here to offer you admission for the 2030-2031 school year and congratulations for being the youngest ever to play in the Women's World Cup. And that paper you wrote on Freud? __**Genius!**__" _

_Yes, it could._

"_Oh, it was nothing!" gushed Jinx. "Freud is as Freud does! Literally…"_

"_Congratulations on that last shot, love. Mind if I give some advice?"_

_Suddenly, everyone around Jinx quieted. Her father, Danita, the Yale dude, and even the roaring crowd began to slowly disappear into nonexistence. However, she couldn't bring herself to care. For there before her stood the most gorgeous boy alive: Cristiano Ravensdale. Age 17. British father. Portuguese mother. Astronomical talent. Played star forward for England in the World Cup at age 15. Scored many winning goals during the Summer Olympics at age 16. Spoke on behalf of impoverished children. Considered the closest reincarnation of Pelé the world would ever see. Black hair. Tanned skin. Six-pack abs._

_All in all, a sex god in soccer shorts._

"_Unfortunately, I can't tell you all my secrets now with all these people around. But…maybe tonight at my flat?"_

"_Normally I like to stay within borders, but for you I'll make an exception." She winked flirtatiously. "Daddy's hyper-speed Boeing can get me from New York to London in three hours flat. What do you say?"_

_His impish grin suddenly turned into a disgusted scowl. "__**New York? That dump!  
É louco?!**__"_

"_W-What?"_

"_Sorry, love." He shrugged apathetically. "I thought you were a Cali girl. I only date Cali girls. Girls who are real. Girls who actually have feelings. You're just an imposter!"_

"_**But I am a Cali girl!**__"_

_The earth began to shake violently without warning. A black hole opened up beneath her feet, attempting to swallow her whole. Jinx screamed in terror. She fell backwards, but caught a hand on an unbroken ledge. Pulling herself up, she stared helplessly at Cristiano's back as he walked away into darkness. There was darkness everywhere now. It was a swirling, thick darkness that resembled a New York night. Everyone was gone. No one around to help…_

_She was abandoned._

"_**PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE!" **__Jinx cried tearfully. __**"I'M A CALI GIRL! I'M REALLY A CALI GIRL!"**_

_The ledge crumbled from under Jinx's fingers. She plunged into darkness._

* * *

"NO! NO! HELP ME! I'M A CALI GIRL! I'M A CALI GIRL!"

Jinx Bass awoke in a cold sweat, her throat raw and tender. Apparently, she had been screaming bloody murder all night. So why hadn't someone come in to check on her? No worried Danita? No frightened maids? No bleary-eyed father? Sighing with relief, Jinx fell back onto her soft goose-feather pillows. Actually, she was rather glad they hadn't come busting inside. If they did, they would ask questions. Questions that Jinx wasn't quite sure she could explain.

"_Danita!_" The brunette croaked pitifully. "_¿Puedo tener yo agua? Danita!_"

Her surrogate mother would have normally come running. _Normally._ Where was Danita? And why was this damn apartment so quiet? Jinx shuffled out from under her satin sheets, stretching like an old dog. Yawning, she headed for the bathroom to brush her teeth. Jinx had a _thing_ about bathrooms. Since her ass would sit there everyday, she liked everything arranged in a certain order and had already laid down the law to the maids. _Everything_, from the marble floors to the glass mirrors, must be spotless 24/7. Her bubble-gum soap and raspberry soap had to be alternated once a week. And of course, a fresh bouquet of flowers needed to be ordered from Takashimaya when the old ones died. With a smile of satisfaction, Jinx leaned in to smell the pretty peonies beside her. _God, she loved fresh flowers!_ They reminded her of home.

Her _real _home in California.

"_Danita!_" yelled Jinx again. "It's Sunday! _¿Vamos a la iglesia?_"

Too busy calling for her nanny, the brunette didn't notice the large pile of clothes in front of her feet and yelped as she tumbled over them. Groaning on her knees, Jinx eyed the numerous other piles on the floor. What did she do last night? Have an unsuccessful Strippers-Anonymous meeting? Her clothes were everywhere! Thank God she wasn't OCD about her bedroom too, or else she'd have a hernia.

"_Sweet Pelé, help me._" Jinx prayed for guidance. "I can't find shit in here! Where's my-_there it is!_"

The brunette dived for a tiny gray remote control hidden beneath an empty Prada shoe box. Laughing triumphantly, Jinx pushed the red button marked CURTAINS and sighed wistfully when her entire bedroom became bathed in sunlight. She'd felt like such an idiot stumbling around in the dark. Any light was better than **no** light. Even the dim speck of light New Yorkers here called sunshine.

"Hmm, whatever _shall_ you wear to church _darling_?" She sarcastically purred to herself in a dramatic Yankee accent. "Of course, it must be Fendi_ fabulous_, Gucci_ glamorous,_ and make you look like a walking billboard! Why settle for less?"

Snickering, Jinx began to pick through the large piles of clothes and slowly remembered how they got on the floor in the first place. Her dad had left behind his Black AmEx, so she'd gone on a killer shopping spree to ease the pain of leaving LA. Five hours later, Jinx had hit every major department store on Fifth Avenue. She had nearly slaughtered Saks, burned Barney's, bought out Bergdorf Goodman, and even cruised through Cartier. Then, after the maids helped bring up the bags, Jinx had invited Danita to critique every piece of clothing she bought. The night soon transformed into a sleepover-esque costume party in which they'd conjured outfits so bizarre even Jinx wouldn't wear again on a dare.

Quiet knocks sounded on the door.

"_Miss Bass_?" A maid timidly peeked inside. "Are you ready?"

Jinx's heart began to race as she spied the time on the antique clock above the maid's head. _It was 9:56! Service started at 10:15!_ Why didn't someone wake her up earlier?

"_Oh shit! Oh shit! Iron these please!_" She plopped an outfit into the maid's arms before hauling ass to the bathroom. "I am _so_ late! Tell Danita I'll be down ASAP! Oh shit_, I still have to take a shower!_"

"But Miss Danita left-,"

Jinx yelled over the running water, "_That's fine! Call and say I'll meet her at St. Patrick's! And can you guys pack me a bagel or something? __**I'm starving!**_"

The petite maid let out a sigh. Apparently, the boss's daughter would have to see the change of plans for herself.

Thirty minutes and twenty-four seconds later, Jinx sped down the black Belgian marble staircase. Growling as she twisted her left ankle in its pink platform heel, she raced across the massive living room toward the elevator. Service had started forever ago! What was she gonna tell Danita?

"There you are Jinx!"

"_Not now Grandpa! _I'm…late_…_" Surprised, Jinx twirled to see her grandfather standing stolidly in the living room. "Grandpa Bart? What are you doing here?"

"I own the place, don't I?"

She ignored the opening elevator door. "You do?"

"Yes, actually, for the past two years." Bart, who was dressed to the nines in Armani business formal, motioned for her to follow. "Come have breakfast."

Jinx fidgeted uncomfortably. "Oh…but, uh, I was just going to mass."

"I already told your nanny you wouldn't be attending. Now come. It's time for breakfast."

She could see a hint of approval in his eyes. The Basses were very vaguely Catholic and even more vaguely Irish. Jinx knew Bart had ascended from humble beginnings. Was he once a rough and tumble youth who picked up chicks after bar fights? Had he ever embraced their heritage? Had he ever regretted climbing the corporate ladder and making his billions? Jinx would have if it meant sacrificing facial expressions. Her grandfather only kept one-the ultra-serious business professional countenance-on at all times. Nothing could crack it.

"You look nice today."

Not even a smile.

"Thanks," replied Jinx as Bart sat her on a leather couch. "I went shopping yesterday. Got the dress and shoes from a cute little boutique in Soho."

She watched the butler pour coffee. "That's nice. Should I be scared of the bill?"

"Dad paid."

"On the contrary, if he gave you the black card, it came from his trust fund and my money." Bart calmly sipped his coffee. "Charles may project financial independence, but I know differently."

_Ouch!_ No wonder they hadn't spoken in years…

He stirred in more cream. "Where is Charles by the way?"

"Dunno. Probably out taking a run."

"Good. I'm not a man who procrastinates, Jinx, so let's get down to business. Have you given any thought to what school you'll attend?"

She shook her head as the butler laid out a smorgasbord of fresh fruit with sausage, waffles, and eggs. Everything looked delicious, but Jinx suddenly wasn't hungry anymore.

"Did Charles mention Constance Billard?" Bart continued when she nodded. "It is a premier school for girls in Manhattan. Young ladies go there and are taught by the best teachers in almost every imaginable subject. Going to Constance Billard is a wonderful opportunity that cannot be passed up. It would be in your best interests to attend."

'Nice sales pitch.' Jinx thought warily. This Constance Billard sounded like a breeding ground for spawn of the super-wealthy. Something she definitely wasn't used to. Jinx had attended public schools all of her life. Not five-star glamorous ones either. So why would this hoity-toity Constance place want someone like her?

"The school year has already started but…" Bart paused to check the time on his cell phone. "I managed to work in an admissions interview for you."

"_A what? _I-I-I," She coughed hoarsely, choking on a sip of orange juice. "_An interview!_ No one told me about a freaking interview!"

"I know this is a surprise, but it's for the best."

Jinx frowned skeptically. "Does dad know about this?"

"Of course!" The billionaire then grimaced as his phone vibrated. "That's probably my secretary. The hotel in Dubai needs renovation, so they need me at the office." He slowly rose to leave. "I'm sure the rep is-,"

"_Here! _I'm here! So sorry to keep you two waiting. Traffic was such a **nightmare**!"

An elegant woman in dark skinny pants and a flowing white Alexander McQueen blouse stood in front of the elevator doors. Her smile was bright. Her brown hair was dark. Her eyes…_those_ Jinx couldn't see because they were covered by large Dior shades. But she seemed friendly enough. Then again, whoever brought Starbucks over and _lots _of it, was a friend to Jinx.

"Please don't let me stop you Bart! I'd hate for you to miss a deal because of me."

"Nonsense. My architects may be idiots, but they're not stupid." Chuckling softly at his hallow wit, the president of Bass Corporations made his goodbyes. "Take care Jinx. Call my secretary if you ever want to lunch. She'll pencil you in."

_Ouch. _So that was it? Jinx wondered. No hugs? No "I'll miss you"? Not even a good luck kiss on the cheek? What kind of get-to-know-your-long-lost-granddaughter meeting was this? All Bart had done was order breakfast and drop a bomb in her lap!

"Yeah…" The younger brunette replied awkwardly. "Call…pencil…got it."

Bart, however, stood in the elevator by the time she was halfway-through her sentence. She was alone. Alone with a woman she didn't even know. Jinx fidgeted again, pulling at the hem of her Donna Karan trench. This was **so** awkward!

"You must be Jinx. It's so nice to meet you!" The woman sat down in the spot Bart had occupied. "I hope you like danishes. They were the only pastries Starbucks had left. If I'd known earlier, I would have stopped by _Le Pain Quotidien_."

Her French was perfect; Jinx noted. "No, that's fine." Smiling tightly, she grabbed a cheese one. Its cold gooeyness stuck to her fingers like paste and made her yearn for the fresh warm ones at her favorite café on Rodeo Drive.

The woman took off her Chanel coat. "So, how's life in the Big Apple for you?"

"Um…I like the shopping."

She smiled again, this time removing her Dior shades. Jinx was immediately struck by the color of her eyes. They were a bright, deep blue that looked oddly familiar.

"I can tell. You look like a born-and-bred New Yorker already. I'm sure you'll have no problems settling in. Mocha latte or vanilla?" After handing over the mocha, she continued on. "I must say I'm very impressed with your school record, Jinx. Straight A's, almost all AP classes, secretary of your freshman and sophomore class, MVP soccer player…_I'm proud!_"

Jinx frowned in confusion. "What?"

"I-I mean," She coughed uncomfortably. "I'm proud to see a young lady your age taking her future so seriously. Academics and athletics is quite a combination. Coach Haskins was very excited when Bart told her about you."

"_You have a soccer team?_"

Now Jinx was interested. Any place that allowed soccer had to be good in someway. She didn't even care if the team played in a sissy East Coast way. Soccer was still soccer. She leaned forward in her seat, closer to the rep who smiled mischievously.

"Try-outs are next Wednesday. _Oh!_ Where are my manners?" She held out a hand congenially, which Jinx shook in return. "I'm Blair Waldorf-Archibald. We met briefly at the van der Woodsen dinner last night. Remember?"

Blair smiled in satisfaction as realization dawned on her daughter's face. Score one for Waldorf. Zero for Bass. Chuck was back on the Upper East Side. He was on her playing field now, not 10,000 miles away in no man's land. Million-dollar trust fund or not, Blair would not let him order her around. This was her child too, damn it, and she would fight to the death.

"So tell me about yourself, Jinx. I want to know everything."

Let the games begin.

* * *

**Spotted: **_**M**_** & **_**L**_** sunning side-by-side on a huge blanket in Central Park. Do those two ever separate? Feminine bonding is sisterly. But wearing matching hairstyles and Ralph Lauren bikinis is just scary. To make it worse, **_**L**_** was seen packing down Snickers bars by the box! Is that **_**really**_** the way to attract hot Sunday joggers? I don't think so… **

**xoxo,**

**Gossip Girl**

A gold-plated cell phone snapped closed. Four! This was the fourth bitchy text sent about her and Mimi during this weekend. Before this new phenomenon, she had never even acknowledged bloggers. Bloggers, she had once thought, were socially awkward cowards who were only brave enough to gossip behind a computer screen. They were only four-eyed computer geeks trying to be cool. Blogging itself was pointless. It was unromantic. It was completely dull and a total waste of time! At least it _had_ been until Gossip Girl appeared, flaming rumor wildfires across the Upper East Side. Who did this Gossip Girl character think she was? A twenty-first century Hedda Hopper? The new Louella Parsons? Well, whoever this Gossip Girl _thought_ was, she was sticking her virtual nose where it didn't belong:

In Leighton Archibald's business!

"Did you get the text?"

"But of course."

"And you're not worried? Not even about this new _J_ girl?"

"Of course not. I'll deal with her when the time comes."

Mimi LaGoule yawned lazily, stretching her perfect size zero figure out for all in Central Park to see. Really, she could care less about the new mystery blogger. Gossip was like a handbag. It was in one day and out the next. One day soon, this Gossip Girl blog would fail that test of time and be thrown out of everyone's minds with last season's Prada bags. So why worry when you could sit back and let nature take its course?

Too bad Leighton couldn't take a page out of her book.

"Last week, she said you were pole dancing at Victrola." The blonde recited indignantly. "Now, I'm shoving down ten boxes of Snickers in a bikini. _Like ever!_ None of these rumors are even true!"

Mimi sighed in boredom. "I _was_ pole dancing at Victrola. Or were you too busy making goo-goo eyes at O again to notice?"

Leighton instantly blushed and looked down to examine her perfectly pedicured toes. Mimi could be so crude, so callous. Any problem outside of MimiWorld was either shrugged off or snickered at. As long as she had the latest bag and a Black AmEx to buy it, life was good. That "could-care-less" attitude, however, also allowed her to dominate the social scene. Many potential social disasters had been diverted because of Mimi's uppity nonchalance. She always made it seem that anything dug up against her was too whimsy to topple her mighty pedestal of popularity. Then again, that same nonchalance led to a complete disregard of other people's feelings, especially if they were being socially murdered by her own hand.

"You don't think O's heard anything, right? I mean a guy like him wouldn't believe _this_." Leighton waved her cell phone in reference to the recent rumors. "It's crazy!"

Because anyone who knew Leighton Archibald knew she didn't _do_ candy. She didn't even look at Snickers for Heaven's sake, much less consume them! The closest thing to sugar that ever entered her mouth was chewing gum. Anyone who knew Leighton also knew that she stuck to _The Zone_: the perfect blend of carbohydrates, protein, and dairy. For breakfast, she ate multi-grain cereal bars. For lunch, she ordered sushi from Nobu. During dinner, although it drove her mom crazy, Leighton made sure to pick out any red meats from her plate.

Hopefully, O knew her as much as she hoped he did. Still…

**Aren't these ppl cr8zy? Me eat a box of Snickers? Rofl! So what about u? I haven't seen u. TTYL!**

"There!" The blonde exclaimed, obviously pleased. "Perfect."

"You actually texted him? My God, you're pathetic!"

If she hadn't known Mimi since third grade, she would have been hurt. But that wasn't the case, so Leighton only smiled in satisfaction as Mimi rolled her eyes.

"So are we hitting Victrola tonight?"

"No way! I'm not even supposed to be here now!"

She eyed her friend testily. "Don't tell me your mom thinks last night is my fault. Baby V was the one who lied!"

"Of course not. But I lied to my mom so I could get out of there." Leighton shuddered. "She was _**so**_pissed when I got home! Technically, I'm grounded for a week."

Mimi snorted in disbelief. Upper East Side princess like them were never grounded. Their parents scolded them, maybe even yelled a few times, but they never gave out actual punishment. "Just tell them you're coming over to study. We can phone punk them and everything."

"Nah. How about I RSVP for tomorrow night instead? My dad's actually home for more than an hour, so we're having dinner at Per Se tonight."

"That's…nice…." Mimi swallowed the last of her water. "I'm starving. While you wait for O to get off his ass, I'm gonna get up and buy a hotdog. Want one too?'

The blonde wrinkled her nose in reply. She hadn't eaten a hotdog since eighth grade. Why start now? And why wasn't O texting her back? Maybe, Leighton reasoned, he was still sleeping. Boys like O didn't go to church, much less even _think_ about going. He had to be sleeping off a hangover from last night. But the thought of him sleeping with one of his whores made her sick. No, they weren't officially dating. But they were still more than friends. Girls who were more than friends definitely deserved a reply back!

Growling in frustration, Leighton was about to stomp on her poor, abused phone when it began to vibrate.

**U eat sugar? Never gonna happen. FYI, I'm wit the crew at my place. Got crazy ass drunk last nite. I'll send vid l8ter. R u coming to Victrola? **

Of course O knew it wasn't true. He knew her so well! Relief instantly calmed her jittery nerves. A goofy grin soon spread across Leighton's lovely face. Yes, she was supposed to have dinner with her parents. But it would be just as easy to play sick and then sneak away after they left. Hanging out with someone like O was just too much to pass up!

She quickly typed back an affirmative. Victrola had to be one of the most romantic clubs in Manhattan. Leighton loved every aspect of it. The old-time corsets, burlesque dancing, and punk jazz…it was the perfect place to meet O. If only they were there alone! Exhaling in delight, Leighton closed her phone and glanced around for Mimi. Didn't she say she was getting a hotdog? Indeed she was. Leighton could see her friend arguing with vendor. Probably over too much sauerkraut or not enough onions. Mimi could be picky when it came to either food or fashion.

"_Hey Jinxy-babe…you sound tired... taking a run in the park…how did it go?_"

Leighton heard the jogger before she actually saw him. He was cute, she supposed. Dark hair. Lean build. But she couldn't really see anything under his sunglasses. And he was all sweaty! Leighton wrinkled her button nose in distaste, but she still kept eyes on him. Now he was on the pathway right in front of the lawn, panting and talking on his cell. She watched him draw closer to the hotdog stand. Mimi, however, was strutting away from the vendor and preoccupied with her lunch. His eyes were down, not paying the slightest attention to his surroundings. Leighton winced.

She didn't need an A in physics to know when Train A was about to collide with Train B.

"_AAAHHH! MY JIMMY CHOOS!_"

"FUCK!"

The hot dog dropped. The cell phone fell. Leighton immediately ran over to assess the damage. Even from a distance, it didn't look pretty. Mimi was getting ready to put that man through hell and back.

"_**WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING! These were brand new sandals! BRAND NEW! Do you have any idea how expensive they are?!**_"

She gestured wildly at the ketchup and radish-stained black sandals Leighton knew she'd come to adore. Whether the man knew the answer to Mimi's question or not, the blonde didn't know. He was too busy putting the battery back into his cell phone to answer. Leighton watched amazed as he redialed a number and talked as if they weren't there.

"_Sorry about that…I dropped my phone…yeah, some idiot ran into me…_"

That was too much for Mimi. "_**You bumped into ME! Look at my shoes!**_"

"Are you deaf too, princess?" He took off his shades to glower wholly at them. "I'm on the phone! _Hey Jinxy-babe…of course you got in…it was an easy win…you sure you don't wanna scope out other schools?_"

Any retort Mimi was about to say died on her lips. If there was anyone close to being a twenty-first century Adonis, it was this man. He was the most handsome man she'd ever seen, and couldn't be over thirty. Flawless tanned skin. Angular, aristocratic features. Messy chocolate hair and a matching pair of soulful eyes. Tight six-pack abs that were clearly visible under his sweaty white tank. Whoever the bastard was, he had definitely won the genetic lottery. Everything about him screamed sex, especially that bad boy "don't-mess-with-me" attitude he kept giving off.

"Have you ever seen him before?" breathed Leighton in awe. Glistening sweat suddenly didn't look so bad anymore.

"No." Mimi replied, feeling a strange pang of disappoint. "Never."

If she had never seen him before that meant he didn't belong to her crowd. A tourist? Maybe. A fellow Manhattanite? Probably. However, this man could never be an Upper East Sider. He had never appeared at social functions. He had never been seen strutting down Fifth Avenue. His appearance- a plain tank and grey running shorts-confirmed he couldn't a penthouse on East 63rd street. So why couldn't Mimi LeGoule, privileged Queen of the Upper East Side, stop drooling over him?

"_Were you nervous? I'm glad…go for it…so was the interviewer hot? Oh yeah, you know I love brunettes…maybe I'll give her a thank-you call…what was her name? Go on. Tell me…_" Suddenly, the new Adonis's face became enraged. "_**WHAT? THAT BITCH!**_"

Mimi shivered. God, he was so sexy! But who was he talking to on the phone?

"_**I don't care if she was nice…anything she told you is a lie! I'm coming home right now. Don't move a muscle!**_"

The phone snapped closed. Cursing, the man ran a hand through his tousle of hair. Leighton wondered if they should move or not, but was spared the thought as his fuming eyes landed on her and Mimi.

"What are you two Barbies still doing here? _Move!_"

Mimi snapped out of her trance. Flustered, she answered weakly. "My Jimmy Choos…"

He sneered. "I'm sure the street vendor you bought those fakes from will be happy to give you a refund. But to make you happy…" He pulled out a black leather wallet and cursed again. "Damn, I'm out of money!"

Leighton and Mimi exchanged knowing glances.

"Here." The man removed an extra pen from his pocket before scribbling on the back of a business card. "I'll give you 300 so you can repurchase the shoes _and_ an extra handbag to match them."

"_They're not fake!_"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart. Pick up the money by Friday."

He handed over the card and sprinted off in the direction he came from, away from a gaping Leighton and away from Mimi's lust-filled gaze. Mimi lifted the card to her eyes and memorized every cursive detail.

Pierre Hotel

5th Ave at 61st Street.

Suite 14

_Charles B_

There were two or three scribbled letters after the B, but Mimi couldn't distinguish them. Rubbing the thin cardstock between her fingers, she suddenly burst into giggles. Her new potential fling might not be such a poor guy after all. This could be fun.

"Who _was_ that guy?" asked Leighton in dazed admiration. "He's not as hot as O, but still…"

"I have no idea." Mimi pocketed the card and smirked with satisfaction. "But I intend to find out."

* * *

* * *

**AN: HOPED YOU LIKED IT! NEXT CHAPTER IS JINX'S FIRST DAY AT CONSTANCE!** **PLEASE REVIEW!**

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